Pendleton
by Pugsgirl4
Summary: Pendleton, a six year old mastermind. Hehe.


Chapter One

My name is Pendleton.

I am six years old.

And I am a fugitive criminal.

You may be thinking right now,

Why am I reading this? This child has mental problems and I want nothing to do with them.

But alas, you have wrongly assumed.

As of now I reside in Tepic Nayarit, the hottest city of Mexico, behind a dumpster in a back alley, in partial isolation. I would associate this lifestyle with the current status of the o- zone layer;

Incomplete.

You ask why I am a criminal?  
At only six years old?

This title is due to my drive: the secure feeling of complete dictation.

You see, when I was four, I advanced to kindergarten before the rest of my age group.

In the child- friendly classroom, there was a surplus of wooden blocks meant for stacking in the corner.

I was naturally attracted to them.

I built a city with my own hands in that room, the rest of my class in awe.

I recall one boy, a year my senior.

His name would be Terrance.

Terrance was a rowdy child, not to mention a rather large child, and often tried to mess with my head.

It never worked.

He approached me with a sly smile and began to slide one block out of the bottom of my Wonder, the capital of the city.

It reminded me distinctly of a dinosaur,

introducing his attack like an overture, preparing for a show of rage.

I, the mayor, narrowed my eyes with warning.

But Terrance continued.

The tower fell, knocking down the rest of my empire like dominoes.

I had not power to stop the damage.

It concluded its collapse as Terrance kicked the rubble in a fit of giggles, and it felt as if there was going to be a puff of smoke before our eyes.

But there was none.

The rest of the class stared cautiously at me,

having knowledge of my common fury spasms.

This continued for minutes,

and no one dared to move.

It was as if they were waiting for me to release them.

Even our instructor paused.

I brought my head up to lock eyes with Terrance, who grinned.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I stepped slowly over the wooden wreckage to him.

No one spoke.

The teacher reached out to grab my arm, but failed.

My amble came to a conclusion,

and I reached up to Terrance's neck.

My boney fingers curled around it, and suddenly there was fear in Terrance's eyes.

Our teacher flung herself at us, screaming, but we were out of her sight in seconds.

Super speed?

Of course not, you imbecile.

I had my home made teleportation system implanted in my brain long before the scene.

Don't even think about blaming this on a "wild imagination".

I don't imagine.

Let's just say, Terrance was never tucked in at bedtime again.

Chapter Two.

I watched the news the night of my attack.

I watched Terrance's mother weep,

my teacher stuttering in attempt to explain the story,

I watched my parents as they approached the courtroom doors.

Such trouble I had caused.

School was cancelled the following morning.

I had pondered going back,

just to confuse the authorities.

But did I really desire a life of counseling and therapy?

I really do know more than they think.

But they cannot see past my anger.

Their vision is clouded with my flaws.

Fools.

After my murderous assault, I had no choice but to run.

Our lowly home in Ohio was conveniently located near the airport,

and I snuck on a plane with no knowledge of the destination.

Good thing I had a small body.

Otherwise, that kennel would have been exceedingly uncomfortable.

It smelled of fleas and

I ended up in Peru.

Peru was an exotic scene; from the window you could view the glorious Andes Mountains in the distance.

And it was a luxury to not have to hide.

I concentrated on my desired location,

and in seconds I was teleported to the base of the Andes, near a herd of llamas.

They were strange specimens.

Spitting, usually obstreperous specimens, they were.

I was not particularly fond of them,

until I was introduced to Agent S.

Now, as I curiously approached the herd as the landowner worked in the fields,

one of the creatures stood out above all others.

It bowed its head, as if bestowing its soul upon me.

And I instantly knew he was mine.

Agent S was thankfully strong enough to hold my weight of 53 pounds.

I mounted the loyal mammal, and took off before the rightful owner knew I was even in his presence.

Silly little blind man.

-cont-


End file.
